


hold me now

by laurelsalexis



Series: bodyguard prompts [2]
Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Some Plot, they fuck and i wanted to write it is basically all you need to know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 00:29:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15919293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelsalexis/pseuds/laurelsalexis
Summary: It’s not love, it’s lust.





	hold me now

**Author's Note:**

> Half prompt fill, half fic I was already writing for reasons so I just combo'd it. 
> 
> No real timeline. It's not important. It's therapy porn for my bad week. 
> 
> For good measure the prompt was: #1. You're impossible, you know?

 

David wakes with a jolt, the room dark, blankets scattered around him, barely covering anything. For a moment he sits there, tries to regain his thoughts from his dreams, settling himself back into his actual reality. The very reality where he left Julia in the bed earlier, making sure she was asleep before sneaking off, for reasons that are both selfish and selfless. Some things she doesn’t need to be exposed to, and others bring him to keep a boundary between them. 

It’s not love, it’s lust. 

It’s the feel of her breath on his neck as she tugs him closer, the way her fingers run through his hair as she desperately tries to cling onto him, onto the moment. Lust and passion in the rawest form. Nothing he can complain about, nothing he desires to complain about. Not when he wants her in the same way, even with knowing all the risks that come with it. 

A few tries of actually attempting to fall back asleep later, David finds himself walking to the shower, turning on the water as hot as he can make it. There he stands, looking at himself in the mirror, trying to clear his thoughts of what he’s supposed to be doing. Having sex with the Home Secretary is not something he is supposed to be doing, only something he does anyway. She wants it, he wants it. Everything else hardly matters. 

It’s everything else that serves to make it far more difficult than it needs to be. 

When the mirror begins to fog up he pulls off the little clothing he is wearing and steps into the shower, finding himself being drenched in the too hot water that is making his skin red. It burns in the best way, leaving him to feel something other than the pain from his thoughts, the memories, and all the bloody shit he had to do in his past. 

His eyes close as as he allows his body to sway under the stream, running his hand down his scar, feeling the unnatural texture along his back. It’s a memory far gone, with something so permanent. Julia’s never said anything about it and he almost prefers it that way. Vicky’s desire to speak about everything only let him more closed off. 

Not her fault, rather his own. 

His training is not for nothing when his eyes open, the sound, soft yet there. He doesn’t move. Not when he is positive it’s not someone there to harm him or the Home Secretary. Rather it’s the woman whose bed he was in earlier, joining him in the shower.

She doesn’t say anything as she stands before him, looking into his eyes, her hand resting on the side of his neck, other moving to brush his fallen hair from his face. 

He only stares at her in return, crooking his head, raising his eyebrows just enough to pose a question without using his voice. “Ma’am.” 

“Do you always shower in the middle of the night?” 

“Do you always join showers in the middle of the night.” 

There’s a soft curve of her lips as she steps closer, leaving little room between them, chests press together. Her gaze falls from his eyes down to his lips, an arm wrapping around his neck, as she places his hand on the curve of her hip. Situating them both to exactly how she wants them to be. “I’m usually working.”

“You’re impossible, you know?” David leans into her, brushing his lips against hers, not yet kissing her. He’s come to like her taking the lead and only even takes a movement forward at her urging.  _Professional_. An excuse he uses to make it seem like he isn’t actually doing what he is doing. There is no part of his job description that says he needs to sleep with the one he is protecting. Otherwise he would have found himself in some unsavory situations. 

She kisses him, without saying anything else, more firmly pressing herself against him. slow, at first, tentative, almost, before she falls into it, and is not thinking but rather doing. 

David kisses her back, as if he would do anything else, slightly moving until they are both pressed together beneath the water. It’s comforting, just as she is there, both arms around him now, as keeps her there, steady against him. For everything else he knows he needs what she is offering. 

Desire runs high with her, filling the nerves in his body, it becoming more obvious as she nips at his lips. a moan bouncing off the walls of the shower, barely drowned out by the sound of the water cascading down.

Julia pushes him against the shower wall, kissing with him a more aggressive force, causing David to only want her more. He breaks, to catch his breath, to watch her with the bright blue eyes that can never manage to hide anything going on beneath the surface. 

He moves her back ever so slightly, giving her a look, before he drops down to his knees, the tile do nothing to brace himself for the impact. He doesn’t care as he runs his hands along her smooth legs, giving the flesh of her thighs a squeeze, wanting his mouth to be along every inch of her. 

Julia does not say anything as she looks down at him, rather gives him a look of approval, spreading her legs apart, a nod.  _Permission_. 

It’s not long before his head is buried between her legs, unable to help himself, desire with him in ever way. He’s doing this for her. Because he wants to, clearly, the way the idea sparks to his mind while she was rubbing against him. But all he wants to do is make her feel good,  _better_ , to let go on his mouth, to have his tongue on every last inch of her, to have her flood another sense of his so he’s nearly nothing but her. 

Her legs spread a little wider, before her leg comes over his shoulder, and there he is, ignoring everything else, his mouth becoming the sole focus of attention on her. Her fingers grip at his hair, moans flood the small space, as she does her best to keep herself from losing her sense of control. 

There he holds her, desperate for this, unwilling to let go even a little, letting the taste of her flood him in ways he definitely would not have thought about her prior. Prior it was her politics he hated and her demeanor seemed like any other politician he would come across. She isn’t though, not with the way she easily takes control and suddenly he feels as if he is just there, letting her take what she wants. 

It only makes him want her more. 

Never did he think he would be on his knees, using his tongue to lick every inch of her, and enjoying it. Enjoying it is by the far the biggest twist, a desperate ache that is all his own floods him more, letting himself moan against her, buzzing both outwardly and inwardly. 

He wants her, needs her, nearly. 

“David.” She moans his name, looking down at him, just as he looks up, letting their gazes meet as he is on his knees and she is above him, making him give her what she needs.  

He works her through her orgasm, only stopping when she pulls herself from him, pushing herself back against the wall. Her breath is heavy as he stands, giving as much of a smile as he ever gives, a barely there curve of his lips. “We didn’t really shower.” 

“Mm, this is better.” She moves towards him, turning the water off, making sure to not touch him, before she steps out of the shower completely. She gestures for him to follow her along, grabbing his hand, tugging him out, grabbing him a towel. 

David takes the towel and drives himself off, just enough, easily coming to recognize the look in her eye. She’s hardly as hawkish after hours, when neither of them seem to be able to keep their clothes on, rather exposing such a different side to her until he doesn’t really know what to do with most of the time. 

She walks until she’s standing by his bed.

His eyebrow raises as he moves over to her, tossing his towel onto the chair, a note to actually hang it up later so it can dry. But that’s not important when she’s beckoning him forward. 

Her control is in full force and he cannot deny that he’d do nearly anything she asked in the moment. When wouldn’t he? From protecting her to whatever they are doing there is so little time when he’s not with her, standing by herside in whatever compacity she needs.

They should both be sleeping, knowing the day coming is not going to be easy on either of them, with how painfully little sleep they do. He doesn’t care. Not when she has her hand on him, pulling him towards her, like he’d done to her more than once. Her breath is heavy against his lips, free hand trailing up his abdomen until the flat of her hand is against his chest.

She bites into her lower lip, looking at him, feeling the heavy weight of his cock between them. 

“Do you want me, David?” 

“Yes.” He answers without missing a beat. 

She considers him for a moment. “Tell me.” 

“I want you,  _ma’am_.” 

She runs her fingers through his short hair before she pushes him down on the bed. 

David falls against the mattress, looking up at her, letting out a heavy breath all his own. He watches her with an intent, unable to look anywhere else, unwilling to look anywhere else. He feels a fire burn through him and he wants to feel her more than she is letting. He enjoys their dynamic, it has gotten him off longer and better than anything he can do with his on hand letting off frustration from work.

She straddles him, moving herself against him, giving him something soft. Soft, never a word that can really be used to describe the two of them. But there they are in his bed, rather than hers. The shift, bringing him to place his hand on the side of her face, stroke against he cheek. 

“I like you under me.” 

“Aye, I cannot disagree.” He takes a moment to admire her. From a moment of comfort to where he hadn’t done more than unbutton his clothes, to now, lying there, exposed, as she is. 

“You’re staring.” 

“Admiring.” 

“Mm.” She smiles, not as purely as she has before. 

It only takes a few moments for the air to change between them. From light conversation to full desire, the way she moves above him, leaving nothing soft and gentle, sinking down on him without daring to say anything. Instead she doesn’t break the eye contact as she begins to race them towards something they both want. Another release to let the tension flow from them. 

She leans forward, so she can kiss him, allowing him to touch her again, to grip at her in the ways he aches to, to make it so so little of her is untouched. He wants to take in every moment as their breathes become the sound of what is filling the room.

Not caring for the paper thin walls or the guard standing outside. 

None of that  matters.

What matters is the way he pulls her down to him, arms around her, meeting her through every movement, leading them both to be able to do anything but feel. It’s good. What they both need. He only gives her what she lets him and finds himself being driven by how much she is taking for herself. 

He knows the more they do the less clean it gets. Esepcially when his hand meets hers, fingers intertwining, leaving them both to be there, together, to feel that connection, the intamcy neither have from anyone else. 

It’ll only make matters more complicated. Neither should be there together as it is. They should be in their rooms, asleep, focusing on their work. He should only be her bodyguard, and yet, with the way he feels buried deep inside of her, the way she bites at the line of his jaw, and the sound of their moans it’s not like he can be anywhere else.

Not now. Not after everything. 

She pins both of his hands above his head, not allowing him to touch her, not even allowing to do much more than anything and take what she wants from him. For as much as he doesn’t like certain things of her this isn’t one of them. Something about her always saying what she wants, taking what she wants, doing what she wants only makes her more attractive. 

It’s different from anything else he’s had. 

It’s different from anything else he’s wanted. 

She rides with him with a roughness that is usually in him until her orgasm runs through her, a loud moan filling the room, letting he body tremble on top of him. There he lies, watching her, unable to keep his own composure after watching him. It hardly lasts long, him pathetically turned on by her, not even bothering to hold anything back. He’s content, especially with the way he bites down into his lip, nearly drawing blood from the tension escaping him. 

He can barely gain his breath by the time she is laying on top of him, allowing his hands to become his own again. They fall to his side, a light touch along her spine, taking whatever comfort the moment will bring before life settles back in. 

She picks up her head to look up at him, looking at her in return before he leans his head back against the bed, shutting his eyes. 

“Don’t tell me I wore you out.” Her tone is lighter than usual, content for the moment, not quite slipped into who she is normally is. 

His lips curve just slightly, enough to look like he’s actually doing something close to smiling, versus the unmoved features he so often demonstrates. “Not yet.” 

“Hmm.  _Yet_.” 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr.](http://laurelsalexis.tumblr.com/)


End file.
